


you make my heart shake

by teamfreeawesome



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 02:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11773551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamfreeawesome/pseuds/teamfreeawesome
Summary: Gabe is pretty hot. Like, professional athlete hot. He has abs and dimples and perfect hair. His personality is pretty great too.Look, Tyson's not saying he's pining or anything, but. He might be pining.





	you make my heart shake

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written hockey fic since April 2016, and then this happened. I stumbled across [this primer](http://emilyisobsessed.tumblr.com/post/154391856594/gabe-landeskog-and-tyson-barrie-a-primer), read the fourteen fics that populate the tag and somehow wrote this in about an hour and a half. 
> 
> Huge thanks to [aweekofsaturdays](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aweekofsaturdays/pseuds/aweekofsaturdays) for reading this when it was mostly just yelling and the word 'like' on the page, as well as for sorting out my tenses and generally just kicking the fic up a gear. You're the best! <3 
> 
> This is essentially just crack. 
> 
> Title taken from 'Wild' by Troye Sivan.
> 
> Disclaimer: No harm was intended by the writing of this. I don't, in any way, equate these fictional characters to their real-life counter parts.

 

The thing is, Tyson likes Gabe. A whole lot. Like, a bunch. Nate likes to tell him that his face goes fire-engine red every time he so much as even breathes in the same room as Gabe, which is terrible but also not a lie. And, you know, Tyson is aware that Gabe’s kind of an asshole. Well, you kind of have to be a little bit of an asshole to survive the locker room, but. He’s like… a nice asshole? He says all sorts of friendly stuff about Tyson’s hockey, he’s a pretty great captain and he only sometimes makes fun of Tyson’s hair and what he eats. Gabe also wrote in that valentine’s card that time, and Tyson is well aware that the whole thing was a joke, but. Gabe was still writing stuff that he thought was _true_.

God, Tyson likes him so much. He’s pretty sure Gabe isn’t into him though; not with his abs and arms – and like, sure, Tyson has abs and arms too, he’s a professional hockey player, but Gabe has _abs_ and _arms_. He also has all this blonde hair that looks perfect all the time, and a beard that looks ginger and also like it might be a little bit soft. Sometimes, when Tyson is really tired after a game, or just in general, when his inhibitions are lowered, he wants to reach out and touch it. He doesn’t! Well, Nate’s a good bro and makes sure he doesn’t. He hasn’t yet reached out and creepily stroked Gabe’s beard, is what he’s saying. Yet.

Nate’s pretty sure Tyson is going to make some sort of accidental move on Gabe in the next year, so. He has a pool going with Tyson’s family. His mom is convinced that Tyson’s going to break at some point and just, like, smoosh his face against Gabe’s on the team plane one day. Which, okay, Tyson isn’t ruling out, his mom knows him, but he hopes not. And it’s not like that would mean he’d get to date Gabe or anything. Gabe would have to want to kiss him back for that to happen, which is the most unlikely thing Tyson has ever heard. Like, ever.

 

//

 

Look. Hockey is pretty difficult or whatever, but Tyson is like. Pretty sure that this whole not-flirting-with-Gabe-so-obviously-that-he-catches-on-but-still-flirting-enough-to-feel-like-Tyson’s-managing-to-get-it-out-of-his-system thing is actually the most difficult and/or frustrating thing in his life currently. And, okay, maybe the puck isn’t hitting the back of net as much as he’d like, but Tyson also has to deal with Gabe standing naked in his vicinity daily, so. Difficulty levels are kind of swinging in favour of dealing with Gabe.

“Good practice,” Gabe says, and it’s like. A lot.

He’s in Tyson’s space with his hair and his abs, and Tyson has somehow lost his voice down the back of his throat. Nate claps him on the back and takes over the conversation like a good bro, but Tyson is pretty sure he should be over this by now. It’s hard, though. His face feels really hot and he probably looks like a strawberry. All he wants to do is maybe hold Gabe’s hand a little. He bets it would be really warm. And, like, maybe he wants make out a little or whatever but. Mostly hold Gabe’s hand.

He’s stuck on the whole holding-Gabe’s-hand thing, so it kind of takes him by surprise when Gabe gently taps his elbow. He’s grinning, with his ridiculous teeth and terrible dimples and Tyson thinks he might never wash that elbow ever again.

“Dude. Are you listening?” Gabe asks.

Nate elbows Tyson, and smirks like the terrible, hideous person he is.

“Uh,” Tyson finds himself saying.

His mouth feels dry. He’s been playing on this team for a billion years, okay, it should not be this hard to talk to Gabe. When it’s about hockey it’s a bit easier, and on camera he can do it if he has to, but when Gabe is just wearing a towel and that horrible, brilliant smile, Tyson’s pretty much done for.

“I was asking if you and Nate wanted to come over,” Gabe says, and flicks his hair. Tyson watches it, almost in slow motion. It feels like a commercial. ‘This man never has dandruff. That’s because he uses Super Sexy Swedish Shampoo. Available in most big stores.’ “We could play Mario Kart. Get some food?”

“Uh,” Tyson tries again.

“He’d love to,” Nate pitches in, stomping on Tyson’s toes. “I mean. We’d love to. Uh. Bro. Cap.” Nate coughs, his ears flushing pink. “Whatever.”

“O-kay,” Gabe says, dragging it out incredulously. “Well. I’ll see you at mine. Maybe dial down the weird before you get there, though, eh?”

He grins, and saunters back to his own locker.

“You have such a big head!” Tyson hears himself yell in belated response. His voice seems to echo, loud and completely humiliating as people turn to look at him. It’s such an intensely horrifying experience that he feels a little bit like he’s going to be sick. His knees go weak beneath him, and he has to lean on Nate for a second.

“Why?” He whispers, mortified, to Nate.

“Bro,” Nate just whispers back, his eyes wide. “ _Bro_.”

 

//

 

Look. _Look_ . Tyson is going to be a big boy about this. Gabe is hot. Tyson is… well, Tyson is hot too, but not like, _Gabe_ levels of hot. Maybe he just needs to get laid. Nate thinks he needs to get laid.

So, Nate drags him to a club. It has a lot of hot men. Like, not professional athlete hot, but. Man-bun hot. Skinny jean hot.

“Dance with him,” Nate says, shoving a shot into Tyson’s hand. “He’s giving you the fuck-me eyes.”

“He is _not_ giving me fuck-me eyes. Those are ‘hold my hand and kiss me sweetly under the stars’ eyes.”

And, okay, Tyson is maybe getting a little fed up with Nate rolling his eyes at him. Tyson is not that ridiculous.

“I am not ridiculous,” he asserts.

“Nobody said you were, dude.”

Tyson snorts. “You were clearly thinking it with your eyes.”

“Oh my god, just go and talk to him, what the fuck is wrong with you.”

Nate pouts, which is hideous and horrible and makes Tyson feel really guilty. It’s like puppy eyes except on Nate which is both extremely terrible and very effective.

“Okay!” He downs the shot. “Okay, okay. I’ll talk to him. But if he turns out to be an axe-murderer you’d better look really upset at my funeral because it’ll be all your fault.”

“Why would he – jesus fuck, Brutes, just go fuck the guy in the bathroom, have a good time or whatever, and then we can go home. The things I do for you, dude.”

So, Tyson maybe blows the guy in the bathroom, and it’s pretty hot, but. It’s not Gabe. The dude is actually kind of sweet, and he also pulls Tyson’s hair exactly the way he likes it. He warns Tyson before he comes, and like. Offers his number. Tyson takes it because he doesn’t want to be rude, but he’s pretty sure they both know he’s never going to call.

He finds Nate at the bar flirting with the bartender, who looks enough like Sidney Crosby that Tyson feels pretty perturbed.

“Here’s my number,” the bartender says, and Nate beams.

“Bro!” Tyson pats Nate on the back. “Awesome. You pulled. Can we go now?”

Nate sighs, but allows Tyson to tug him outside.

 

//

 

So. Then there’s a whole thing with Instagram, which Tyson isn’t touching with a barge-pole. His mom calls him on a random Tuesday when Tyson is vulnerable and unprepared, eating chips on his couch in the afternoon, and maybe thinking about having a nap.

“Have you kissed him yet?” His mom opens with.

Tyson nearly chokes on a chip.

“Mom! No. You know Gabe is like. A billion on the hotness scale, and I’m a seven. He’s not interested.”

“So why is he leaving flirty messages on your Instagram, then?”

Tyson nearly upends the entire bag of chips onto his carpet in his desperation to get the app open.

Gabe’s commented on a picture that Tyson had posted ages ago, laughing at something either Nate or Gabe had said. He’s used his private account.

 **_bossekrull_ ** _Laughing at my jokes again_

“That’s not _flirty_ , mom. That’s _friendly_.”

“Ha!” His mom says. “If a hot friend of mine was leaving those kinds of comments on my pictures, I’d fuck them.”

Tyson gags. A tiny bit of vomit burns its way up his throat.

“Oh my _god_ , mom. Don’t say things like that!”

His mom snorts.

“Suck it up, honey. And do something about your boy. I have fifty bucks riding on it being in the next three weeks.”

 

//

 

Okay, so then Tyson maybe has a dream about Gabe. Maybe.

It’s post-game. Late. He’s spent a whole day with Gabe being exuberant and warm and naked by turn, and it’s making Tyson a little stressed. Plus, he kept touching Tyson with his hands. Big, warm hands. Calloused.

“Good job, Brutes,” Gabe had said, and like. Stroked his hand up Tyson’s bicep, which is just. Rude. Tyson popped a stiffy instantly. So rude.

The dream hits him pretty hard. It’s in a bathroom stall, and Gabe is kind of mad. Or Tyson is mad. They’re like, shoving each other and there’s a whole thing about Gabe winning a bet and Tyson’s going on about how big Gabe’s head is. Look, Tyson is goddamn _funny_ , okay. Nate laughs at his jokes, anyway.

Gabe’s breathing hard, and his beard is darkened with sweat. Tyson is pretty sure he could actually come from just looking at him. Or maybe if he could just touch an ab. Just one. But then Gabe says something, and suddenly they’re surging towards each other, Gabe’s hands sliding into place on Tyson’s hips. They kiss, hot and wet and kind of desperate, and Tyson’s whole body feels like it’s burning from the inside.

Tyson can’t stop fidgeting, hot and turned on. He rakes his nails down Gabe’s shirt, the material warping weirdly under his hands. Shoves a hand under the shirt. Touches _one ab_ and –

A choir sings. Birds tweet. An angel descends, and Tyson---

He wakes up hard enough to drill a hole in something. Well, something soft, like cheese. A soft cheese. Brie. Whatever. He jerks off, comes after three strokes, and lies there breathing heavily as his come cools over his stomach.

He really needs to sort this the fuck out.

 

//

 

Tyson storms into the locker room the next morning. He’s furious. Or, like. Frustrated. Both.

“Look!” He yells, pushing open the door. “I need to have words with you, Gabriel.”

The cleaner turns around, looking perturbed.

“Sorry,” Tyson mutters.

 

//

 

“Look!” Tyson yells, as Gabe opens his door blearily. “I have words. Some words. A thing to say. Oh my god.” He shoulders Gabe out of the way. “Just let me in.”

Gabe is just in his boxers. He scratches idly at his stomach, and Tyson’s gaze is drawn down to Gabe’s happy trail. It’s a really dark blonde. Tyson wants to light his whole face on fire. He can’t believe he has to see this with his very own eyes.

He makes his way to Gabe’s kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee. Clutches it with shaking hands.

“Okay. Sit. You’re making me nervous.”

Gabe snorts. He’s looking slightly more awake now, but his scruffy morning hair still makes Tyson want to die. It’s hideous and beautiful and he wants to wake up to it every morning.

“ _I’m_ making _you_ nervous?” Gabe asks incredulously.

“Yes,” Tyson says. “Sit.”

Gabe sits. Tyson’s belly feels like it’s tied itself in knots, and now he’s here, in Gabe’s house, he feels like he’s lost some momentum.

“Look,” he tries again. It’s lost some of its pizzazz, though. He tries to dig up a bit of the frustration he’d been feeling before. “Look! I have had it up to here,” he gestures wildly at his nose. “You are a terribly attractive man, Gabriel, and I have had enough.”

“Um,” Gabe starts, looking surprised.

“No,” Tyson stops him, holding up a hand imperiously. “Let me finish. I have words. You are a hideously attractive man, and I think it needs to stop. I am going to have to request a trade because I cannot deal with having to see your face on a regular basis without being able to touch your ab.”

“My _ab_?” Gabe asks.

“Yes. Your ab. Well, all your abs, of course, but I didn’t want to sound greedy. Oh my god, this wasn’t the point, shh. I’m going to have to have to leave because you are a gorgeous man-god sent from Sweden to conquer the hearts of men and also play hockey, and I am just a man who wants to know if your beard is as soft as it looks. I can’t do this anymore! Let me be free, Gabriel.”

Gabe just stares at him.

“Well?” Tyson demands.

Gabe blinks. Opens his mouth. Shuts it again. Tyson’s whole body feels like it’s vibrating with the tension.

“You… can touch my beard, if you want.”

Tyson narrows his eyes.

“I can touch your beard in a sexy way, or I can touch your beard in a teammate way?” He asks suspiciously.

“There’s a teammate way?” Gabe asks, before shaking his head. “ _No_ , not in a teammate way, Tyson. In the sexy way.”

Taking a deep breath, Tyson put the coffee down on the counter. Stumbles round the island until he can reach out with one shaking hand. Gabe’s beard is just as soft as he’d imagined.

(They do end up kissing eventually. Tyson smooshes his face against Gabe’s face and kind of licks a bit. Gabe snorts. Pulls him in. Bites his bottom lip, and then everything is _very_ sexy).

 

//

 

So, Tyson is super happy about the whole Gabe-kissing development, but he also really wants to tell Nate.

“I can tell Nate, right?” Tyson asks.

They’re both still mostly naked, and Gabe is making coffee. Even the back of his head looks sexy. Tyson hates his life. Or, like, loves it or whatever.

“You can tell Nate,” Gabe says. “If I don’t put sugar in your coffee are you going to whine about it?”

“I don’t whine about anything,” Tyson says. “And I don’t need sugar when I have your hot body to distract me.”

There’s a pause. Tyson kind of wants to throw up in his mouth a little bit. He can’t believe he said that.

“Uh,” Gabe says. “Uh.”

“No take backs! You’ve fucked me now, you have to love me,” Tyson yells, before he grabs his phone and goes to hide in the living room.

 

//

 

Nate just laughs and laughs and laughs.

“All that pining over nothing,” Nate says, when he’s finally finished laughing at Tyson. “Dude, you made me listen to all that I’m-so-sad-Gabe-won’t-ever-fuck-me music for _nothing_.”

“My music taste is a _gift_ , okay, shut up. Also, you don’t get to laugh at me until you finally make a move on Crosby. You’ve been pining after him for, like, a decade.”

Nate makes a choked noise.

“I hate you. Go be happy with your boyfriend and let me pine in peace.”

“It’s the ass, isn’t it?” Tyson presses. He sighs wistfully. “Such a nice ass.”

Nate hangs up on him. Rude.

 

//

 

Tyson’s in bed with Gabe. He’s in _bed_ . With _Gabe_. And also on the phone to his mom, but whatever.

“Mom! You didn’t win the bet. It wasn’t on the plane.”

His mom just cackles and puts the phone down. Next to him, Gabe shifts. One big hand comes to rest against Tyson’s bare waist. His mouth is warm as it moves down Tyson’s back. Tyson squirms.

“She won then, huh?” Gabe asks, in between kisses.

“No,” Tyson says, turning to beam at him. “I did.”

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic of] you make my heart shake, by teamfreeawesome](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12435588) by [lotts (LottieAnna)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts)




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